Daredevil: The Man without Fear
by Shenlong7
Summary: How I believe Daredevil could be best adapted to a movie, could be considered Daredevil Year One, establishes relationship with Elektra though not focused on it, relationship with karen Page, first year as a lawyer. Rated t but may change to M
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Like Lady Justice

Disclaimer: All rights to Daredevil belong to Marvel and by default Disney...still funny as hell to think about. The following is a non-profit fan fiction based on a story that incorporates other stories put out by Marvel but adapted by the author for purely entertainment purposes. Please support the official release of Daredevil merchandise and products.

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My heart was pounding in my chest along with the steady pace of my feet on the concrete and tiles of the rooftops of the city, my city, my domain. The rain was pouring down on the ground, the sound waves resulting from each individual drop gave me a picture of what my city looked like, just like every time I use to "look" at it as kid growing up without the ability to see. To save the life of one man I lost my sight in a resulting chemical spill, but for my good deeds, I was rewarded for my good deed with a new kind of sight, one that came from my other senses. Maybe it was the chemicals that took away my vision or maybe it was my body coping with the loss of sight, but all my other senses were increased exponentially. I could read a paper just by brushing my fingers over it, feeling the contrast of the ink and paper, I could hear everything within a 20 feet radius, I could smell the individual odors of people, and my sense of taste was great enough for me to be able to recall every ingredient in everything I ate. Though it was hard to cope with these changes, I was helped by another man who suffered from the same problem, one who taught me how to master it and soon I began to see these gifts as rewards for my selfless act.

My father had always said that this was how the world worked, the good were rewarded and the bad were punished for their sins. Though his profession was beating in the faces of other men he was a strong Catholic and he raised me to believe that food would always triumph in the end. When I gained my new senses I felt like I had been blessed by God with the ability to tell when people were lying so that I would always know the truth. I became obsessed with the law and everything that it stood for, the guiding light to help humanity find it's way in the darkness of corrupting greed and violence. Never did my belief in justice falter until the moment when it failed to shine light on my father's killer. I could remember the trial, I was standing in one corner with Mr. Fixer, a crooked boxing promoter, in the other and even though I could testify that I heard Fixer threaten my father, no one would listen to a blind man. In their belief my father had been mugged by somebody and Fixer was going to walk because someone to shield him from the light of justice. I had just graduated college, I would have prosecuted the man myself, but instead they let some incompetent idiot let Mr. Fixer walk out of the courtroom, never letting me even get a chance to testify.

I could smell the dirty money on the table, but I knew Fixer wasn't that powerful, despite the fact that he was the biggest dirty boxing promoter he didn't have the money or the influence to walk away from this. The gun had belonged to him and his cigar smoke was all over the body as well as a bit my father's blood on one of his shoes, but the judge had thrown that out because of a clear "mistake" made by prosecution. All of these sounds and smells from the courtroom played through my head, along with the painful memory of my father's dying breath. It was raining that night as well, God had granted me one thing, a chance to see my father one last time as the rain helped me to see him smile as he told me he was proud of me. I love you dad and I promise you, Fixer will not escape justice. He can hide from the light, but I became the sword of justice and I was going to cut him.

My mentor, Stick, had taught me not only taught me how to cope with my heightened senses, but he also taught me how to use them to fight and to balance myself. Stick was a mysterious man, sometimes people mistook him for a janitor because of how they say he was dressed. I don't know what he looks like exactly, he's the only person I know that I haven't seen. I met him a few days after I had become blind and he took notice of my abilities. A year later he was teaching me ninjutsu, how to keep myself balanced on tight ropes, and how to defend myself. As I thought back to his training, I began to feel like I had been preparing for this moment my whole life, like this was what I had spent all that time training for. And then I began to think about how I had treated _her._

Elektra Natchios, the daughter of a Greek diplomat, and the most beautiful girl I had…well I've never really laid eyes on her, but I have seen her, in my own way. I remember it was when we had finally finished our first year in college, both of us relieved from all the stress of the exams and so we decided to go out and get something to eat. When I had first met her she had seen right through my attempts to hide my senses and started a fight with me to force me to reveal my abilities. Being the daughter of an ambassador, she had learned how to protect herself with impressive grace and a ferocity that one would see in a tiger. It had been my idea to go up to the roof that night, right after we had finished eating, and listen to the sounds of the city. I could tell the rain was going to fall long before the first drop fell from the sky, I could smell it in the air. I told her that the only way I could see like a normal person could, that the rain made everything seem to come alive for me and I told her that there was no person I would rather see than her. She was like a goddess in the rain, her form bringing the grace of a jungle cat and her body was like a work of art, ancient Greek art that was made in sculptures, too beautiful to possibly be real.

As I thought about that night, I remembered how I had pushed her away from me, thinking back to the moment in which I saw her, actually made out what she looked like, I knew that I needed more than I ever had before. I felt lonely, terribly lonely, and more than ever I wanted to apologize for what I had said to her. I wanted to take it all back so that I could forget that smell, the smell of the tears that rolled down her cheek. The sound of her voice was different from how she usually sounded when she was angry, there was something more in her voice, something that penetrated the inner depths of my heart, hurt. Hatred rushed into my body as I thought more and more about the suffering the Fixer had caused, not just what my dad felt before he died, not just what I felt from his death or what I felt from making the woman I loved cry, but the pain that i had caused Elektra in my anger. I promised her and myself that I would never hurt her like that again. All that anger that I felt at that moment was going to leave my body just as soon as I let it loose on the man who had put there in the first place. Fixer was going to feel all the pain he had caused and he was going to finally feel the cold steel of the sword of justice, of that much i was certain.

Adrenaline pumped through my body, fueling the dark thoughts of revenge that flowed through my brains as I began to delude myself into believes of grandeur, that I was St. Michael coming to cast Satan into Hell. Truth was he already was in Hell and so was I, Hell's Kitchen, the place where old and new New York clashed. Police sirens can be heard constantly and the nights are when all the dregs and filth of Old New York come out to play. That night, I was playing with them and I was playing for keeps.

I prowled from rooftop to rooftop knowing exactly which way I was going, I knew my city like the back of my hand, even blind I knew how to get to which part of town and from there I would find my prey. He was at his usual strip joint, the one I first found him in when i had gone off on the run to see the police catch him, to watch smiling from the rooftops as I saw my father's killer taken into the certain hands of justice. Innocence was lost that day when I found out that evil had changed the game, they were making a mockery of justice and I could not be silent while they attempted to rape Lady Justice. I think i had her in mind when i thought of my disguise, the only bit that would stop anyone from recognizing me, a small black blindfold. It wasn't the best, but thankfully no one has ever linked the blindfolded vigilante of that night to the blind son of the late "Battlin" Jack Murdock. The rest were the black ninjutsu training clothes that Stick had given me, thankfully he had one because I didn't think i could make one. I've never heard of a blind seamstress or tailor. It's black or so he tells me, but I wish it were red, like my father's boxing robe, red and yellow. I remember seeing it as a child before I was blind, but that was his old robe, the new one, the one he died in, was fully red. Red was the only color I could remember as the world seemed to be red with anger and vengeance, the fury of justice. Lady justice had given me her sword and I was ready to strike.

I jumped on top of the roof, right where there was a small skylight for the strip joint, but god knows why, no person in there probably wanted to see the sun and no person on the outside wanted to see the filth on the inside through a window. If you wanted to see them at all, you walked in there and they welcomed you or stabbed you. I opened the skylight and jumped down to the catwalk over the strip joint, grasping the lights that weren't lit. When all the best looking ones got off stage for private parties the others stayed on stage to continue putting on a show for those who couldn't afford the private parties, normal clientele, not the mob affiliates. That sleazy b astard was doing shots out of the top of a petite young girl or at least she sounded like one, but voices can be deceiving when it comes to women who make money of a projected appearance. I don't fault them for their profession, some reluctantly choose it and the ones who do enjoy the freedom and power that comes from making men squirm in their seats. The only problem was that right now she was in the way of me and my prey and I didn't want to get her hurt, i'd already hurt a woman that day, one who was very dear to me. Elektra's face popped back into my mind, the memory of the visions of her given to me by the rain, and the anger rose inside of me, driving me to Hell.

"Fixer," I called, my voice coming out in an angry rasp that seemed like the devilish gargoyles depicted on top of the Cathedrals.

"Who the hell said that," demanded Fixer as he looked over the club, his eyes glaring at the crowd. The man who finally pointed to where I was hanging from was big man, he wouldn't be easy to take down, but I wasn't going down, not now, even if it meant breaking my body. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want, what Jack Murdock wanted," I said, anger rising in me and booming out of my voice, even to this day I wondered how I looked and how I sounded when I growled, "justice!"

"Jesus, what is this world coming to when I'm threatened by some blindfolded ninja wannabe," sighed Fixer as he reached into his pocket for a gun, but before he could pull it out I threw the billy club that I had brought with me at his hand. I could hear his wrist crack under the force of the billy club and I reveled in the thought of pain, but I was only getting started."Kill the psycho, two grand for his head!"

Those words were a call to arms for all the thugs and filth in the place to be swayed in his control, but it would only go so far. I jumped down and landed right in the middle of the group, knowing that now I was about to use my radar sense to counterattack the massive wave of thugs. Their moves were uncoordinated and some were too drunk to come even close to aiming at me, instead hitting another man and starting a seperate brawl. I was swift and precise with each dodge and when I retaliated I was sure to deliver a precise punch. One came at me with a pipe, a pity I didn't have my billy club, but I could easily catch the weapon and wrench it out of his hands. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell I had surprised him because he didn't try to move back until it was too late and I had caught him in the jaw with the pipe. I don't know if he backed off or was knocked out because I had to focus on another attacker who had a chair in hand. I rolled right past the chair as he swung it down, hitting only the floor to his great surprise, and I kicked him right in the back of the knees to bring him down before hitting him in the back and then the front of his throat.

He went down, just like the one who followed him, and the one who followed that one. I was too much in my element, too fast and too powerful for any of them to take me down. Not a single one of them managed to get a hit on me as I easily danced around the final two men standing, neither of them the big man who had pointed me out to Fixer. I could tell they had broken beer bottles in their hand, I could smell the drops of beer that still clung to the bottle. The first one lunged at me, the bottle outstretched, but I could tell when it was getting close and smacked it right out of his hand and delivered a shot to the side of his head which knocked him out. The next one came just as soon as I made my move, hoping to get me while I was busy with the other man, but I knew he was coming and flipped right over him, drop kicking him in the back as I was coming down. This sent him right into the bar where some of the ladies were hiding and I soon as he hit the bar, one popped right up and hit him over the head with a beer bottle.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," said the girl, the same one Fixer had been doing body shots off of, only now she sounded somewhat older, not like some little schoolgirl these sleazy types like to corrupt, a mature woman trapped in from all corners.

"Thanks," i replied giving her a reassuring smile while I looked for where my billy club was and I felt the big man walking towards me, i heard him coming towards me, and I sensed he had my weapon.

"Aw, lookin' for this ya horned freak," taunted the big man, he was easily seven inches taller than me and I could tell he had muscle to spare. "You know, I was the one who beat Murdock down and shot him. I was watching him from the other side of the street too as his poor little blind son cried over his body. Even got a picture of it, if you want to see it. Now after I've taken a picture of your beaten corpse for my scrap book, i'm gonna bang the living shit out of that girl's ass and then take pictures for a different scrap book. of course, i'm gonna kill her afterwards."

"You're going to rot in jail for what you did," I replied, the anger writhing inside of me, telling me to attack him, telling me to bash his head in until his brains poured out like a grey slushie. I almost let my anger do just that, but the girl was there and I thought she had seen enough.

"Like to see you try," said the man as he swung the billy club at me. he was fast, as I was thankful that I was faster and managed to dodge the blow before giving him a back kick to the jaw. He smirked as he just stroked his jaw, this guy was a lot tougher than the average thug. "I've got to say, that was somethin, but I'm not going down that easily."

He was right about that, he wasn't going to go down easily, but he was going down and then I was going after his employer. At that moment, I didn't know what I was going to do, but looking back, I might have crossed a line and beat both men to death with my bare fist had it not been for interventions by external forces. God had degreed that I was no killer and I've never gone over that edge, not completely, but I've blurred it. I ddi blur it that night.

The big man threw a punch with one of his long arms and I tried to block it, but the man was built like a tank, nearly knocked me over with that punch and the forearm that blocked it was definately going to be sore in the morning. I immediately struck back with a fist to his nose, breaking it, but he seemed to smirk at me again. I knew he was high on something, possibly PCP, wouldn't feel anything for hours. Without pausing I jumped back and picked up two pool cues, breaking them in half so that I was holding the bottom ends of the cues. The big man came at with the billy club, his behemoth arms causing small winds with each swing, almost as if he were a giant trying to blow me off the mountain, but I would stand strong. i rolled right under his attacks so that I was in close and then i pummeled his torso with the cues, making sure each hit would hurt him in a an area that would make it hard for him to move. Neutralizing his movement was the first step in taking him down, a trick that I had learned from Stick. With one good kick I sent him right onto his back and I pounced on him for the takedown.

Surprisingly, he was prepared for this and brought my billy club up to knock me over, my own weapon damging what felt like two of my ribs and sending me to the top of the bar. The girl gave a yelp of surprise as she saw me sprawled across the bar clutching my ribs as i struggled to get up, the attack had greatly winded me. She knew that my success in fighting this guy was the deciding factor whether or not she lived tonight and so she slipped a bottle into my hand, knowing I would get the hint of what to do next. The big man was too confident to think that I would strike him after such a powerful blow, but unfortunately for him, I was also tougher than your average fighter. Stick had beat that into me as well. The big man stood over me as he brought the billy club over his head ready to strike, but before he could bring it down i struck him in the face with the beer bottle so har it shattered over his face, sending him reeling back. I knew that a beer bottle carries a lot of blunt force on it's own, but when it shatters it can do some big damage and the man's skull was probably cracked a bit. He needed medical attention.

"Call a hospital and then the police, this man needs medical attention," I said to the girl and she nodded, finally gainging some calm after being shook up by my appearance, but I still had another score to settle. _You're gonna get your's fixer_, I thought as I ran off in the direction that he had run off in, stopping a moment to pick up the billy club that I almost left behind.

The trail was still warm and I could tell that he hadn't gotten far, he was tiring out early from the pain from his broken hand. I found him trying to enter the subway, his gun finally drawn while he used the same hand holding the gun to partially cluth his broken wrist. Adrenaline from fear was pumping through his body, keeping his nerves on edge so that he was waving his gun around nervously. Luckily the station was nearly abandoned except for some homeless people and other innocent bystanders who ran at the sight of him with his gun. If I didn't stop him at that moment he might have shot someone accidentally, an innocent casualty in my selfish quest for vengeance.

Luckily I could hide on the top of the pillars and cling to the supports of the ceiling, keeping myself shadowed while he looked around for me, expecting me to pop out to drag him to hell. He was smart enough to know exactly what I was going to do as soon as i caught him. When i was close enough I dropped down to the ground, dust scattering from under my feet as I landed in front of him. He turned around, gun drawn, ready to shoot at me, but I immediately knocked the gun out of his hand and hit him with the back of my fist sending him to the ground. He must have looked so pathetic at that moment, fear covering his entire face as he lay there helpless as a child, far from the imposing figure that had menaced my father. Such a man as this had used others to win his fights and he demanded that everyone pay dues to him even though he was worth none of it. When they didn't do what he said he killed them just as he killed my father, a good man, a fighting man, a man that this piece of shit could never even hope to take even then way past his prime. My father would have beat the life out of this man, I knew that for sure and because he didn't get to do it, I was going to be the good son and do my father proud.

"This one's for you dad," I whispered as I walked towards Fixer and then I stopped when i started to pay attention to his heartbeat. It was beating dangerously fast and it was becoming too overworked. I was about to tell him to calm down, that I would let him go if he confessed to everything and donated the rest of his money to the church, if he left town and never came back. I was going to show him mercy, but he was so afraid of me that his heart just simply stopped. "Fixer, hold on I'll get an ambulance just stay with me."

I was wasting my breath, but I couldn't stop, I couldn't let this man die matter how much he deserved it, no matter how much the world would be a better place without him. It would be somewhat better without him, but at the same time, Fixer was one man in a web that only he had information of. I needed to find out who bailed him out of jail, who was corrupting my system, the justice system that I had come to love. I wonder how Fixer would have felt if he realized that the son of the man he had killed was trying to save his life. Would he laugh at the irony or would he realize the error of his ways? He'll never get the chance because in the end, only one man really cared about him living and what is one grain of sand in a sandstorm?


	2. Chapter 2

In the Skin of a Devil

I remember the first time I ever met Elektra, it was at a party that was being held by one of the wealthy friends of ours, the ones that would sometimes joke about being wealthy, but they weren't the kind that made you feel unwelcome. Foggy was the usual object bullying, but I was always there behind the scenes to put it to and end, mostly by delivering a bit of their own medicine. It was charitable balls in which paintings were sold that were painted by students who were holding joint degrees with the arts. She was with one of those rich snobs and from the way she was always in constant movement she felt caged, I think that was when I first ever thought of her like a jungle cat. It was because she was always trying to move forward, trying to get out of the invisible cage that she had imagined had sprung up around her.

Luckily she finally broke away from the rich snob and started to walk around the room ensnaring men with those beautiful looks of hers and somehow, I think if I could see her eyes, I'd see the eyes of a lioness ready hunt a gazelle for herself. I could sense that a lot of men felt a certain arousal from her presence and I could admit that everything I had sensed about her so far had an enticing nature to it, even the rich, strong perfume she wears, and so strong of cinnamon and jasmine that brings tears to my eyes. There is something so sweet about her movements, the way it creates a perfect rift through the air seemingly dancing through the currents of sound waves as I perceive a phantom ballerina transforming in a panther on the prowl. There have been nice girls on the way, but this wasn't one of those nice girls that your mother was trying to introduce you to, she was something else, and I'd like to figure out what that something else is.

She must have noticed that I don't walk like I'm blind; something that I hadn't quite mastered yet at that time, but it was still something subtle, something only trained eyes would pick out. I just wanted to walk past her, see if perhaps she would respond to me and that would lead into a conversation. I don't know how handsome I look, but girls tell me I look handsome, I just hoped I looked handsome enough. She put her foot out to try and trip me, a challenge to see if I was really blind, something that I just barely perceived from the slight adjustment of her body, though I did not correct myself. I would have given away my secret so I allowed myself to trip and to stumble, catching myself before I made it obvious as I didn't want to bring too much attention to myself. Her eyes were looking me over as I started to get up, using my cane to make and hands to try and make sure no was around, sell the act a bit more and hope she bought it. The only person who bought anything was me as she sauntered by me, moving close enough to waft some of that expensive, sensuous perfume into my nose almost like she was spreading pheromones. I could tell by the change in her breathing and the way her heartbeat gave an outline of her body that she turned her head to look back at me over her shoulder. That was the last I saw of her at the party, I later found out we shared two classes together, allowing me ample time to get to know her and she me. She always saw right through me, as if I were made of glass and she never broke me, she treated me gentle except for the nights when she would devour me, but I always welcomed those nights.

She always liked to see my eyes, trying to imagine what they would have looked like if I hadn't lost them in the accident, but them she would kiss each individual eye. I knew even after the words came out of my mouth that I shouldn't have yelled at her at the court house, it was the first time I had ever known her to be hurt and the fact that I was the one to have hurt her stung deep in my chest. After I had finished delivering justice to Fixer I decided to prowl the city and try to find something to get my mind off of Elektra and the smell of her tears. It just wasn't enough as I stopped two muggings and one rape, all three cases the victims were women, but none of them were Elektra. I had to see her, I had to apologize to her, I had to lick those tears away, just as she had done for me when I lost my father. First I decided to see if I could get a better disguise for my break in as the guards to her mansion were trained to remember slight details. I slipped into the bedroom of my home only to find Stick sitting there, waiting for me.

"So you took vengeance this night," said Stick, not really asking, he was stating a fact that he had already known probably even before I had planned the entire thing. "You must be getting sloppy if you didn't know I was there watching the whole thing, even to the moment when you tried to save your enemy's life."

"I went there looking to dispense justice, not play executioner," I said, no, stated with a form declaration of determination backed by a righteous zeal.

"You were stupid in your actions, all the same," said Stick as he got up and used his stick to push off my blindfold. "This doesn't hide much of your face, you're lucky you moved like a blur and half of your opponents were drunk. If you plan on doing this again, I'd suggest finding a better disguise, but at the same time, i'm hoping that I can convince you not to do this again."

"I don't know, I use to believe that justice could always be found in the courts," I said deciding to lay all my cards on the table, after all, this man was my mentor and he already knew so much. "I'll try to fight for justice in the courts, but if the guilty continue to make a mockery of the system then i must continue to act on behalf of justice. Though I need to change the image, I need something that looks more fearsome and does a better job at disguising myself."

"And just how do you plan on acquiring something of that nature, I've never heard of a blind tailor," said Stick as he sat down on the chair in my room.

"Well I could design the suit, but the only person I could trust to sew it together is you," I said as I turned to "look" at Stick as a showing of my absolute trust in him. "I humbly ask you to help me in creating this matter. There is no one else i could trust with this matter, I would only be putting them in danger with that knowledge, but you already know so I need your help. As you said I can't make this on my own, I can't even fix my suits. Please master, help me."

"I'll help you make your skin, but I hope that you think this over seriously," warned Stick as he stood up and walked towards the fire escape. "I'll come back later for the sketch, but I should also warn you about Elektra Natchios. Stay away from her, she's got a powerful anger and if you're not careful she'll suck you into her darkness as well."

With those words he left me standing in the middle of my bedroom, alone with my thoughts, but so many things were rushing by my head, so many thoughts that I felt overwhelmed, much like I did in bars when people talked loudly. I thought about what Stick had said about Elektra and I thought back onto all the times I had seen Elektra's wild side, remembering that fire that was burning inside of her. That fire had started a spark in myself, igniting a fire that drove out a wild side in myself, a fire that nothing of my Catholic upbringing could scorch, though i was grateful for Father Rourke for all the late night confessions and the fact that he kept it all confidential. My dad wouldn't have mind though, he was a strict Catholic when it came to Church attendance and even his lifestyle, but he also knew what it was like to be a young man with so many women chasing after you. I thought of my father and I wonder if he would proud of me and the road that I had taken this night. I imagined that he'd be yelling at me for the things I said to Elektra and I wouldn't blame him.

I thought about designs for my new outfit trying to think of something that would work to my advantage, a symbol that could be used to take by Hell's Kitchen back from the hands of corrupt and the greedy, I needed something to show them that Hell's Kitchen can be taken back and to prove that no one is above the law. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain that my costume would be made from my father's old boxing robes, the ones he had worn when he was killed. The robe was fully red so it limited his range of design choices. He spent an hour thinking before figuring that he should decide a name first for his other identity and let the design center around that.

_I better go visit Elektra and apologize for yesterday_, I thought, shrugging off the warnings that Stick had given me, i couldn't just leave things at that, not with Elektra. I looked through my trunk until i came over what I was looking for, an old black bandanna that could easily be used for a cowl, covering up more of my face so that I wasn't easily recognizable as I prowled the rooftops, leaping across the distances and running along the telephone wires. It felt good to be right back at the enjoyment that I had always felt when I was waling above the city, jumping freely without a care in the world, interacting with the city on a level that others couldn't. With my mental map of New York City I was at her house faster than i ever could have been in a cab, but the sight of her house didn't bring any of the relief that it usually did.

I could hear the sirens blaring and police officers forming the perimeter around the estate, a sniper team was already getting ready to move in. I listened intently to hear what was going on and from the voice of two officers i could determine that a group of terrorists were holding Elektra and her father hostage, obviously to demand ransom from either the United States government or Greece, who Mr. Natchios was an ambassador for. They were avoiding going in until they had each hallway going in and they were handing out pictures of Elektra and her father to the sniping and SWAT team. The terrorists were keeping them at bay so far and they couldn't get in without risking harm to either Elektra or her father. I couldn't just sit by as she was in danger, i had to act and I did.

I climbed up the backside of the mansion, keeping out of sight from any of the sniper teams less they think I was one of the hostage takers trying to make an escape. I slipped into the top floor of the mansion finding that it was only guarded by three men, all heavily armed with assault rifles from the sound of the rate of fire. The first one was isolated and easy to take out, i just up behind him and slammed his head into the door frame. The other two were close to each other and I could take them out easily with my billy club, the only problem was that I didn't have my billy club on me. instead i had to improvise using the magazine from the downed hostage taker's assault rifle, sneaking slowly towards to the other two. I pounced on the first one knocking him down while throwing the clip at his compatriot, striking him right in the head, the terrorist reflexively squeezing off two shots. Suddenly it became apparent that someone else was in the mansion, a fact which caused the terrorists to split up the main group that was watching Elektra and her father come looking for me.

I perched on the top of one of the railways on the floor above, waiting for them to burst through the door, which they didn't disappoint me. They even made the stupid mistake of not looking up, instead sticking close tot he believe that their attacker would be on the ground in front of them. They had no idea I was coming as I pounced at them, kicking one down while turning wrench the rifle out of one's hands and throwing it at another. Because I was so close they decided to go for hand-to-hand combat, something that they were passable in. They had never attacked one man at the same time, especially one who could move like me.

The first punch was easily dodged and countered with a punch to the throat that took the terrorist out of the fight. One of his friends decided to rush me from behind, but I easily flipped over him, pushing him forward while I delivered a back kick to one of his friends. A fourth terrorist tried to punch me but i easily caught it and brought my arm up right behind his elbow, pushing it forward till it was wrench out of it's joint. At this time the one who had rushed me had picked up a chair and was about to hit me with it before I rolled right through his legs and kicked him right in his left cheek, sending him right into the terrorist with the broken arm. The one that I had back kicked had gotten to his feet and started to come at me with a few well thrown jabs at me, but I managed to block each one thanks to having a former heavy weight champion for a father. He threw a haymaker trying to knock me out, but I ducked under it and delivered an upper cut that took him off the ground a few inches and landed him on his back. That was all for this crowd.

What I heard next still plays in the back of my mind whenever I think of the good times me and Elektra had, I think of the moment when she was lost to me. There was the panicked cries of police officers saying that the terrorists were throwing hostages out of the window and the sniper captain giving the order to fire. I heard shots ring out and i ducked as they began to tear through the windows, I head Elektra scream for her father. I rushed through the door only to find Elektra holding her father, blood flowing everywhere and i knew that it wasn't her blood. His heart was slowly stopping and even though I knew it wouldn't do any good I called for a medic to the outside. We watched as her father died and I took off the jacket I was wearing and gave it to Elektra to put it over her father. The sound of a gun clicking came from behind me, in all the excitement we had overlooked one last attacker. I could tell he was armed with only a revolver, the distinctive sound of the cylinder revolving gave it away.

"Who the devil are you," he asked me as he kept the gun trained at me, though I could tell it was shaking, the slight sound of metal gave that away as well, plus the loud sound of his heart beating. He turned the gun towards Elektra making it clear he was going to shoot her if I tried anything.

"Exactly that," I said adding a bit of menace to my voice added by the anger that this man was partially responsible for her father's death, i could smell the used gunpowder from the gun.

"Well then here is the deal, you're sued to making deals, aren't you devil," taunted the man as he nodded towards Elektra. "Now I won't hesitate to gun you btoh down, but you managed to get in here without either the police or my men noticing, I need you to show me how, so I let the girl stay here and you and me walk out of here, then i disappear and you two never see me again."

"I can't do that," i said as I took a step forward, prompting him to cock the hammer back further in warning. "I'm here to take you to hell and it would be embarrassing for me to tell Lucifer that I let you go."

'You think you're funny, numb nuts," shouted the man in anger, his heartbeat accelerating and adrenaline pumping through his body. This time he trained the gun on me. "You want to take me, go on I dare you! I double dog dare you! Come on I dare you devil. Come on daredevil, let's see you take this gun from me."

"Daredevil, i rather like that name," I said as i let the chair leg I had under my sleeve loosen as I got ready to throw it. "I don't want to kill you so put the gun down and no one else has to get hurt."

"You see that's where you're wrong, you have to be hurt for being so god damn stupid," roared the man as he started to pull the trigger, but the gun fell from his hand as his head jerked back from the blow of the chair leg right to the middle of his forehead. He was knocked out cold.

"I'm sorry about your father, I wish I could have stopped this man earlier, before he killed him," i said, trying to comfort her, the smell of her tears was like a melancholic cloud that had appeared over our horizon and it marked the beginning of the end of our relationship.

"He was shot by the police snipers," she replied as she looked at the window. "I managed to slip out of my bindings and started to take out the terrorists to get my father to safety, but I accidentally knocked one out of the window. The police must have thought he was a hostage and started firing at whatever they could see, which incidentally was my father."

"Om my god, I'm sorry," I said, I truly was sorry and I felt that once again, the system had let me down. "I'll stay with you if you want."

"No you should go before you get roped into this," she said and I knew she didn't really want me to go, but I had to respect her wishe because after all, it was the right thing to do. If the police found me there they would have begun to question who a blind guy had taken out so many armed combatants single-handedly. I needed the world to think me blind if I hoped to carry on another fight for justice under the alias that had been given to me...Daredevil.

* * *

I didn't realize it would be nearly a week before I saw her again, she wasn't in her mansion and I was having a hard time finding her, the only time I can across her scent or that jasmine perfume she wears was...at all the wrong places. Crime scenes in which thugs were found brutally murdered. I had started to really worry about her and what she was becoming. More than ever I needed to find Elektra and keep her close, keep her safe from all these things in her head and external forces that were changing her. Stick had told me there was darkness in her, but I believed in Elektra more than anything, and I wasn't about to let me faith dwindle. I loved her, after all. The next time I saw her was at her father's funeral, there were still so many unresolved issues. I could hear her sobbing softly as they buried her father's remains in a mausoleum they had built for him. Despite him beign a Greek diplomat, her father had fallen in love with America and maintained duel citzenship.

"I'm sorry...if it ended like this," I said in a soft whisper right by her ear. I could sense her security guards watching me, their bodies' tensing at the sight of me being so close to the only daughter of the revered diplomat. "I shouldn't have interfered with the police matters...it's my fault that your father died... they would have just gotten their ransom money and let you g-"

"Don't," she warned, her voice was not in anger directly at me, at least not fully. "You saved my life by interfering and I'm sure that my father's death wasn't entirely an accident. Besides, I was wreckless when I threw the man out of the window, even though he was already dead. I've always had a whicked streak in me, one that my father had always tried to estinguish, butthis time it only help to give an excuse for his enemies to kill him."

"Elektra, I...something of me tells me that it might have been just police panicking," I told her, trying to fight my own doubts about the corruption of the system. I knew it was a losing battle because I too had those thoughts and I knew that Elektra's father, God rest his soul, was just another thread in this puzzle of corruption that I had discovered when my father was murdered. All of this was pushed in the back of my mind as there was something more important in my mind as I analyzed what Elektra had said. "You don't have a whickedness to you. You did only what you felt was necessary to protect your father, even if you killed someone you only did it to protect your father from danger. I know you Elektra, I've felt what's inside you, known your every intimate thought, and I believe in you."

"Oh Matt,my love," she said, that melodic tone to her voice, but there is something else to her voice as well, something that sounds like the undertones of regret that makes me clinch up inside a bit in fear of what might come next. "You really are too good for me. I don't deserve someone as pure as you, not someone like me."

I was taken aback by her words before responding,"but you are a nice girl, I mean sure not nice by conventional means, but you are a caring person. You've been caring to me."

"Matt, do you know what I did after I left crying from the courthouse," she asked and a bit of me doesn't want to hear the answer, afraid of whatever dark deed that my Elektra had committed would drive a wedge between us, something I didn't want to happen. "I killed three people in an alleyway, three men bums who looked at me with lustful eyes, wanting to do dirty things to my body and I enticed them by undressing. I was like the spider setting out my web and all the flies came eagerly, knives in hand to cut at my underwear, my words enticing them furhter before I sprung the trap. This is what I am Matt, everything i touch i destroy and I'm afraid that if I keep you in my graps I might try to destroy you too and I don't want to drag you into this mess."

"Elektra, I-"

"Do you remember when I first showed you I was interested, not at the party, but when I snuck into your room," she asked and I nodded. It was true that I remembered that because, embarrasingly enough, it was the first time I had ever been that intimate with a woman. Being raised Catholic I had been taught to save sex for marriage, a thought that I hadn't put too much faith in, but I tried to keep that idea. Then I met Elektra and i couldn't deny that fire that she had turned on inside of me. I let it consume, let myself burn in it's heat, melting under the hot touches of her skin as she melted with me, two liquids mixing in the same cup. "I went there after I saw you fighting those bullies, the ones that were picking on your friend Foggy, and just seeing how strong you were, the power in your stride and grace, I began to feel hot. I was aroused from seeing how beautiful you were when you fighting and so I followed you to your dorm and watched from afar, using binoculers to view you from afar. You had tried to see me earlier that day, at least I guessed you were the same intruder that my father's guards shot at. Your face was so handsome as you smiled in triumph as you assured Foggy he didn't have to worry about Brad giving him another broken jaw. The caring look on your face made my heart swoon, I had never seen anyone else so sincere in the way that you were. I love that about you, you are always true in your feelings to everyone around you, even when you tell me you love me, I can tell that it is true because those words are coming from you."

"I'll always be honest with you Elektra," I promised her and I felt the radience of her smile, some would say it was the like the sun radiating on the garden, but I knew she was more like the moon, lighting the path in the dark, helping the lost to the promise land. I was like the wolf basking in the brightness of the full moon and I wanted to howl for her.

"i know you will, lover, but I always break the things I love the most," she said and I felt the moon set, the tears come back to her eyes and i felt tears in my eyes as well. "As long as I have this whickedness in me, I don't know if I should be involved in your life, which is why I'm going to be leaving America...and I won't come back until I'm sure that it would be safe."

"If you're afraid for your life I could protect you," I said as I put my arm around her, wanting so badly to keep ehr close, i had already lost so much I didn't want to lose her, not her.

"I don't mean safe for myself, I mean safe to allow you to love me," she replied, the tears now falling like the rain and as if her eyes were the skies, the rain began to fall on all of us. I think of all the things that were heartbreaking to "see," my father lying dead, the poor lying dead in the streets, a raped little girl crying in the rain,...and the woman I loved crying because she had to exstinguish the fire so she didn't burn my soul.

* * *

Stick was waiting in my living room, just as I expected him to be since I had sent for him just before I left to gather the materials needed. He was looking over the sketchbook that I had set out and the red boxing robe that was laid out on the table, my father's boxing robe, the one he had died in. At first, neither of us said anything as I laid out the materials on the table, locking the door to my father's house, my house, closing out the rest of Hell's Kitchen while their salvation was being made. I had chosen the name, now all I needed was my skin. I was thankful that my father had worn the red robe that night instead of the yellow, brown and red one. Not that there was anything wrong with the yellow one, it's just that for the devil's skin you had to go with red, it would look better piercing the night.

"Are you sure about this," asked Stick as he looked at me, I couldn't see his eyes but I knew he was eyeing me, just as he must have been eyeing Elektra when he saw the darkness in her, trying to see if she had...passed any to me. I refused to believe that she was whicked, even if she had killed people, I knew that there was more to her than that. I still beleived in her and I was going to find the one responsible for her father's death, the center of all the thread, the one that had bailed out Fixer. I had promised her that.

"I've already made a promise to wipe the corruption from this city," I told him as I sat down in my father's chair, taking in the lingering sent of the late great "Battlin" Jack Murdock. "I still beleive that the system will prevail so I will continue to be it's advocate, the one who helps the innocent be saved and the guilty be punished. I'll continue to be a lawyer, but then there are the times when the guilty hide under the blind spots of justice, they try to blame things on the innocent and oppress them while they pay corruption to false truths. For them, I will punish as Daredevil, and thorugh this skin of the devil, Hell's Kitchen will be saved. They've tried to make it a hell for good an honest people, but now I'm going to make them rot in it."


	3. Chapter 3

First Cold Night in Hell

Disclaimer: the following is a non-profit fan based fan fiction of Daredevil that is not endorsed or sponsored by Marvel. The characters and settings are respectfully borrowed from Marvel for use of non-profit entertainment. Please support the official release.

Author's Note: There will be a shift from Frank's perspective, but rest assured it will be noted. Also do not be afraid to tell me your opinion on the fiction that is currently being written. If you think it is too gritty or if it's not gritty enough. Read and Review.

* * *

The man's name was Dirk Fritz, a typical sleazy any dirty job type of guy with a gut bigger than a punching bag. He was always eating something and he was always dirty. The last time he showered was before he shot his mother in the face on mother's day when he was seventeen. He had to get the bloodstains off of him or maybe he was just being an obedient little boy to his mother's last command before he shot in the face. Perhaps she should have ordered him not to shoot her instead of telling him as he put the barrel of the gun to the back of her head, not even bother to turn around to think about what that strange metallic clicking was behind her until a shot rang out. I don't know what was going through his head, maybe it was because he was such an obedient boy in the eyes of his mother and he felt trapped by those eyes, trapped in that gaze of hers that always seemed to judge him, it cut his nuts off. Maybe he didn't want to kill her; he just wanted to get those eyes off of him, those eyes that stared at him all the time. Either way he killed her and he had killed other people.

His partner in crime goes by the name Delahunt, just Delahunt, nothing else, the same can't be said about his rap sheet. Multiple homicides with his name attached to them, but no evidence to put him behind bars, the man was a professional, clean, unlike his partner he was also quiet saying very little. I knew he was the worst of the two because he knew exactly what he was and what he was willing to do, but they were both just small time players in a big time crew. When you can hear everything you can hear the rumors that pass through the lips of the guilty after the release of the beer bottle. There was a bigger player on the streets, his name had long been carved into territories with blood starting from Hell's Kitchen, but he was now taking over everything from the interior to the exterior of the criminal empires. He was well financed and he only went by one name, Kingpin. Kingpin's reach spread throughout New York and into other areas as well. In fact it would not be a stretch to think that he controlled all crime in America, with every dirty mugger and every corrupt politician paying tribute to their mastermind. These two didn't belong to Kingpin though, they belonged to his biggest rival, The Owl, the one who had Hell's Kitchen in a veritable stranglehold and I was about to take his place on the top. I don't want his criminal empire I just want the status on the food chain to keep Kingpin out before I start dealing with him. Respect controls many things in this world of crime, though honor is a rare commodity.

I prowled over the darkness of the rooftops, smelling in the filth and booze that covered Fritz, and I could tell that they were walking in a darkness of their own. Criminals were like cockroaches, hiding in darkness, scattering in light. The things that man becomes when he turns away from the light of justice, they're sick and they don't even know it. All this crime and corruption is a disease that's poisoning Hell's Kitchen, the Devil's Kitchen, my Kitchen, and it's up to me to clean it all up. I made a strong cup of coffee, the smell was enough to wake me up and the taste would definitely keep me awake through the day. Today we were going to start our firm and hopefully Foggy had hired that assistant that we so desperately needed to keep track of things in the office. Foggy is about as orderly as anarchy and though i can have some picture of my surroundings I don't want to give away too much of my abilities less Foggy catch on.

I walked in nearly three hours late hoping that Foggy wouldn't be too mad at me, this was very important to me and he did walk me constantly from my apartment to the office, he nearly moved me into apartment above the firm since no one was renting it. There was another person in the firm, a female by the smell of her, though strangely enough she smelled very similar to someone I had met, I just couldn't place the scent.

"You should try to clean up, you'll get farther if you didn't smell like you crap through your skin," said Delahunt in a thick deep Irish accent that was devoid of any emotion. Some said that he was a former member of the IRA who came here to make money to send back home to his comrades.

"Please, what's the point of cleaning up if you're just going to get dirty again," replied Fritz. "Why confess to your priest if you're just going to go straight from the church to bang a hooker?"

"Maybe so you don't live like a filthy pig and more like a man."

"Hey as long as the boss puts up with it I don't need to get clean," replied Fritz as he opened the door to the hang out. Finally, I might find some evidence I can use to prosecute them, I just need to beat up everybody in there and call the cops. They bust in to check out the disturbance and find all the evidence laid out there. "Hey assholes, open up the door!'

"Elegant as always, Fritz," said the man on the other side of the door. "You brushin' your teeth with dog shit? My god the smell, no wonder the boss doesn't hand you your orders directly."

"Shut the hell up and just open the damn door," warned Fritz.

The other roof had a look out on it, but he was expecting someone to attack from the ground so he never noticed me jump across the roof nor did he notice me swing my billy club. He was armed with an AK-47, this was obviously a high level place, not bad for my first night, a way to make a name for myself. There were no others on the roof, he must have just been a lookout for police. No criminal would be stupid enough to cross the Kingpin, not unless he had enough men to start a war that would sweep through New York. I slapped some cuffs on him, old ones that I found were stored in the back of a bar that cops use to frequent before they started taking bribes. Now only honest cops go there and those cops are too smart to lose their handcuffs. THe inside is clouded with smoke that bounces off of everything telling me what the boundaries are. I know it's nothing that would make me wish I had eyes, but then again there was only one person who made me wish i could see and she wasn't here. I forced thoughts of her out of my head not even bothering to think her name or else it would bring the pain inside.

"Hey, take a beer up to Johnny, he's been out there in the cold for four hours," said someone from downstairs, probably another one of the guards.

The person who came up wasn't very lucky, he managed to walk right into my fist and fell right down the stairs before I could catch him. There went the element of surprise.I immediately threw myself down the stairs, using my hands to catch me and push myself into the group of enemies before they had a chance to draw their guns. These men are slow, some of them are thankfully drunk, but even drunk men can be dangerous, it depends on how angry they get. One picked up a chair and tried to hit me with it, but I easily ducked it, letting the man behind me get hit. I rose and grabbed the chair since it was still good to use, it takes a lot more to shatter a chair than what you see in Hollywood films. There were ten men there, each one trying to throw punches at me, but I danced around them all giving them backfists that sent them to the ground. These were just guards, not the two pros I was looking for.

"Who the fuck is this freak," asked Fritz as he walked out, pint in one hand and a knife in the other.

"This is the devil of Hell's Kitchen coming to deliver a message to The Owl," I told him with every bit of menace that I used with Fixer.

"Fuck you," he said as he moved to throw the pint at me, but I was faster and threw my billy club first. It hit him right in then nose shattering it. "Ow my god damn nose!"

Delahunt was a silent individual, he was known for being able to sneak right under people's noses, even killed a mob boss who had him marked for death by sneaking right into a party he held and shot him right in the face, right in front of his entire family before slipping out. His ability to be silent was legendary, but it wasn't enough. I could sense him coming at me with the knife and turned to grab his knife hand, twisting the knife out of his hand. I didn't want to get into a protracted fight that would make me seem like a vulnerable human so i punched him in the throat. He dropped, just like his partner was about to as soon as I found my billy club.

* * *

I woke up late the next morning due to my alarm failing to pierce the sensory deprivation chamber that I sleep in. I usually wake up before it, but due to my late night activities and patrols I'm going to have to condition myself to change my sleeping habits if I want to get up in time for work. I groaned as i realize that I was going to be late for my first day of work at a business that I co-owned with Foggy. I'd hate to let my bestfriend down on the first so I was going to have to make some excuse and hope that my natural handicap would cover for me. Some day I might have to tell him about all of this, before he finds out himself and the distrust ruins the best friendship I've ever had. Will I tell Elektra about this when I see her next? Muscles ached at the over use of them last night, I've never fought so much, but after every crime I foiled there was always another mugger. I could only hope that the fear I had inspired last night would be detrimental to crime. Crime would never fully go away, but you could certaintly weaken it greatly. Foggy was chatting her up so I knew that she must be a looker and from the mental image that I got of her form from the way her scent formed aorund ehr body she had a nice figure, not that I'm the time to go falling for a woman just because of her figure. Maybe I would, but I'm better at looking at personality than any man I know.

"Oh hey, finally here, I was worried about you Matt," said Foggy, I could hear the concern in his voice, which was a relief since I thought he might be pissed at me being late on my first day. I felt terrible for not thinking that he would be more worried about me getting lost. "Well since you're here I'll introduce you to that assistant you said we needed. Now even though I still respectfully disagree with your dismissal of my skills of order(would it be mean to laugh at you then Foggy.), but I think we're going to be famous for having the best looking assistant in Hell's Kitchen."

"Oh stop, you're being too kind," said the other woman, there was a rise in the heat on her face, indicating that she was blushing, but I was more taken aback by her voice. That voice I had heard before, it was the dancer who had helped me the ngiht Fixer had died, the one who risked a lot to do what she did. Foggy coughed to snap me out of my thoughts so I could shake the hand she had outstretched. i wonder what I looked like to them. "I'm Karen Page...have we met before?"

"Your voice is familiar but I couldn't remember where I had heard it," I said rather lamely, hoping that she wouldn't question any furhter. She didn't and the red was spreading across her face. I realized she was thinking of the one place I would recognize her voice from and was afraid her job was in jeopardy because of her past. "I think i heard you on the subway once and I might have accidentally bumped into you. I think you thought i was being rude about it. I'm Matthew Murdock by the way, but please call me Matt or Mr. Matt if you like, just not Mr. Murdock."

"Let me guess, Mr. Murdock is your father," she asked teasingly, she probably had heard that a lot from men who were trying to be more friendly.

"Yeah...he was...," I said soflty, remembering the great man I had called father, the great man who had been taken from the world by a wicked man. She could see that I was visibly saddended and she guessed why.

"I'm sorry did I bring up something that I shouldn't have," she asked, afraid that she had been digging in a wound that had not closed. She had, but not intentionally.

"It's alright, you couldn't have known," I reply warmly, hoping to reassure her that I'm fine and she isn't in trouble. I picked up my briefcase. "I'll just go get settled, but if you need anything just tell me."

"Okay then," she said as she watched me leave and then turned to whisper to Foggy, "did I accidentally talk about something I shouldn't have?"

"Well Matt's father passed away a month ago," replied Foggy, a bit sadly as he had also known my father who warmly greated the man, even use to ask him if he wanted to learn how to box. Foggy said that he someday would, just waiting for the right moment. "Mr. Murdock was a great man who was murdered by a boxing promoter, an evil son of a bitch that I'd like to strangle. Matt was going to testify against him, but the prosecution was either incompetent or bought and Fixer just walked away. I've been worried about Matt ever since and even more so now that Elektra's gone."

"Who is Elektra," asked Karen, keeping her voice down to a whisper so she didn't upset me. I could hear her clearly though.

"Look I shouldn't have told you that, you should really talk to Matt about that," he said feeling a little guilty to telling someone I had just met something very personal. I wasn't to worried about her though, she was a nice girl trying to make her dreams come true and I could tell she was going to do anything she could. "Though I will tell you this. I wish Matt wasn't blind."

"Why is that?"

"Well, Karen, I'd like to punch him for all the times I had to wait outside the dorm," he replied. Sorry Foggy.


End file.
